Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,78
and going you’ve been up to lately.”
Suzannah sighed. “Avery, listen to me. I’m not a doddering old fool who has to have every moment of her day managed for her. I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself, living on my own, making my own decisions—”
“I know that,” Avery interrupted, facing the fact that she had been hiding in the safe harbor of parental concern. After all, who could fault her for her devotion? “I just knew that losing Daddy would leave a void in your life.”
“Yes. It has. Of course, it has. But it’s a void I have managed to fill by refusing to live in the past.” Suzannah got to her feet and returned her chair to its place. “Now, I want you to promise me you’ll do the same. And start tonight by having a good time with David.”
DAVID SAT ON THE TOP STEP outside his front door, elbows digging into his knees, fingers laced, head down and thumbs rubbing the pressure from his temples as he waited for Suzannah to leave Avery’s place.
Minutes ago, he’d been on his way down, but hearing the knock on her door followed by the voices of both women, he’d stopped above on his third-floor landing. He’d decided to hang out upstairs until the coast was clear, not wanting to interrupt whatever mother-daughter thing they had going on.
More than that, however, he wanted to get his hands on Avery, and with her mother around that wasn’t going to be happening.
He knew he had Suzannah’s blessing should he wish to pursue her daughter. She’d made her approval of him perfectly clear, hinting on occasion how she wished Avery would get out and have more of a social life.
None of the hints had been blatant matchmaking attempts; Suzannah was more subtle than that. Well, except for the obvious lawn-watering ploy. But catching her drift didn’t require a rocket scientist—even if that was exactly what he could have been. Instead, he taught computer science, his higher education plans diverted by one of life’s big fat detours.
In a truly twisted irony, he owed his career to Johnny Boyd and that fight beneath the bleachers. Returning to school with a reputation as a badass had been his first step into the hell that had been his senior year at Tatem High. He only made it two months in before his father yanked him out of school and moved their small family of two to El Paso.
An oil-exploration geologist, his father had been comfortable leaving his overachieving son home alone in the small town during his short trips around the state. That comfort had turned to an unease that blossomed in proportion to David’s dropping grades and rising incidents of trouble. Once enrolled in school in El Paso, he’d been reduced to the same status he’d had in Tatem. The one with the nearly perfect 4.0 GPA.
In the end, the experience had taught him a lot about himself, and he’d married his geek’s love of computer science with the newfound fulfillment he found in teaching when working in after-school programs with kids from El Paso’s barrio. Life was strange, but he couldn’t complain about the twists and turns since he was sitting here waiting to complete a circle that had begun so many years ago. He loved what he did and wouldn’t trade the small-town classroom for the moon.
At the sound of Avery’s door opening and that of her mother’s descending footsteps on the staircase, he got to his feet. He dusted off the seat of his khaki Dockers with one hand as he walked down. When he looked toward Avery’s door he saw her watching his approach.
Her expression was both hesitant and one of anticipation, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether she was responding to her mother’s visit or the thought of the evening ahead.
He slowed his steps as the beat of his heart picked up speed. “Am I too early?”
Avery shook her head. “You’re just in time to save me from talking myself to death while the casserole bakes. King Ranch Chicken. I hope that’s okay.”
“Are you kidding?” She could’ve baked dog biscuits and he would’ve been fine with it. He offered her the bottle of Pinot Grigio he’d brought.
“Mmm.” She smiled as she read the label. “I’m so pedestrian when it comes to alcohol. I was going to offer you Dos Equis or Corona. This will be so much nicer.”
“I’m good with the beer,” he replied, closing her front door and following her through the